


you'll be by my side

by CadetDru



Series: you can lean on me [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Canon Asexual Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, No beta we refuse to answer questions like peter, Planning a trip, Season/Series 04, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Sharing a Bed, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, don't have emotionally fraught conversations while exhausted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:40:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadetDru/pseuds/CadetDru
Summary: Of everything that had happened and was still happening, six words said by an insubstantial almost-ghost should have been the least of it: "I really loved you, you know?" Past tense made sense if Martin thought he was going to his own death. It didn't have to mean that he didn't love Jon any more.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: you can lean on me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032606
Comments: 11
Kudos: 205





	you'll be by my side

Jon guided Martin out of the Lonely. He needed to take Martin home, but that was a difficult concept to grasp. Home was anywhere but the Institute. Martin had a flat. He was numb enough to give Jon the address, and feeling too much to be anything but overwhelmed. Jon steered them there.

Martin moved across his living room like a landslide, going from unsteadily standing to shakily walking to comfortably sprawled out on the couch. "Sorry," he said, eyes half shut. Of course Martin would apologize for not being a perfect host when he was recovering from a near-death experience.

"It's been a long day," Jon said. He couldn't say it was fine, couldn't say he understood. He couldn't say anything useful at all. He wanted to tell Martin how much he loved him.

He excused himself to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to justify his retreat. His mind was racing, but it kept landing on one thing that Martin had said to him in the Lonely.   


Of everything that had happened and was still happening, six words said by an insubstantial almost-ghost should have been the least of it: "I really loved you, you know?" Past tense made sense if Martin thought he was going to his own death. It didn't have to mean that he didn't love Jon any more.

Peter said that the people they each thought they loved didn't exist. Martin knew, better than anyone else, the inhuman depths of what could charitably be called Jon's soul.Martin had taken the worst of Jon's casual cruelty before any of the rest of it started.Had he erased it all from his mind to love some purer image? Did he think none of that had been down to the human, all of it being the influence of the Eye? He had seen Jon, really seen him back there.Would he still love Jon if he ever really did?

There were other things he needed to focus on.Lives were at stake, including his own and Martin's. He just didn't want to think about any of that. Once, the most terrifying supernatural threat had been the worms that had come for Martin. That was the level of threat that Jon felt prepared for.

He'd tried so hard, so quickly to keep Martin safe after that. Martin's well-being was his to guard. He had been so protective and possessive without even having the kindest word to say to or about the man.

Jon listened to all the tapes, his assistants had to listen to what he'd recorded. In the months that they'd worked together, that was how they'd absorbed information about one another.Jon knew what people said Martin thought of him and Martin knew what Jon said he thought of him. He couldn't pinpoint when he'd fallen in love with Martin, but it had to have been before the Unknowing, before he'd been kidnapped. Waking up from the coma just made him actually ready to face it.

Jon called Basira to check in. Plans were made, arrangements set into motion. Jon's fingers twitched to take notes, not that he needed to any more. He grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper anyway. Martin would need the information as well.

Jon's plan, as detailed by Basira, was for him to run off with Martin to a cabin that Basira could get him access to. It was more nuanced than that, but he was half-distracted by making tea.Basira mocked him mercilessly by his sheer relief. She professed to be glad that at least someone was getting a happy ending. She promised to come to the flat within a few hours with everything that Jon needed from her.

Jon brought out two mugs of tea, even though he was hoping that Martin was asleep. He looked to be asleep, sprawled across the couch. As he approached, Martin stirred to life and held his hand out for the cup of tea. He shifted to make room on the couch. Jon sat down on the few inches of space available.

"This should help," Jon said, hoping it was at least a little true. The tea had to be drinkable.

Martin drank it with only a slight grimace. "This is better than I expected."

"You stopped making it for me so I had to work out the general idea," Jon said, trying to make it a joke. It wasn't which made it worse. He'd grown so reliant on Martin.

Martin smiled. "I'm sorry.I've missed you."

It was as good of an opening as any other he was going to get. "We need to talk," Jon said.That was the best way he could think of broaching a topic about their future. 

"Can we not?" Martin said. "I need to sleep for about a week."

"We don't have a week. We need to get our next steps settled."Jon explained it all, stammering and stopping as he did, that they were going to go to Scotland, just the two of them. That they were going to be safe, maybe even happy.That they needed to pack and go, that Jon didn't have much and they couldn't go back to the Institute anyway. Basira should, hopefully, be able to bring Jon some clothes. They needed to be ready.

He couldn't find the words to say "I love you" because the situation was so much more than that. He could find the words to say.

"Is it my turn to talk?" Martin said in a small voice. He put the mug of tea down. Jon followed suit.

Jon tried to form the right words to indicate that of course it was time off Martin to talk. Jon had never intended to talk so much but he just needed to Martin to know that they were going to face everything as a team again, the way they should have been. 

"Jon," Martin said, sitting up a bit more. "You need to stop."

Jon just nodded, feeling everything falling apart. This was what he'd been waiting for. He was too much for Martin, for this situation.

Martin reached out for his hand. "I'm going to talk and you can... nod.Okay? Just nod.You're out of words." 

Jon nodded and squeezed Martin's hand. They needed to eat and sleep, shower and change into fresh clothes and pack.They needed to speak quickly. Jon would only lead Martin astray with unnecessary words.

"You helped me out of the Lonely," Martin said softly.

Jon nodded. He was very proud of that, proud of what he'd been able to do for the sake of...Martin. If he wasn't going to be able to talk, he had to try and communicate his feelings some way.

"You don't have to ask me to run away with you," Martin said, his voice breaking. "Again."

"I'm not asking, we're past asking. We have to run," Jon said, because being silent when he should had never been his strongpoint. Jon's heart sank into his empty stomach. He hadn't even considered that he would have to ask again. They needed to be away from the Institute, they finally had a chance. Martin had said no to the eye gouging proposition. Jon hadn't thought he was saying no to the rest of it."You have to come with me," Jon said, and that was all wrong too.

Martin rubbed at his eyes with the back of his free hand. "You don't have to try and be kind."

Jon wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come besides the soft "no" that he tried to hold back. He was still holding Martin's hand. Sitting on Martin's couch, being accused of being kind, did not give him the words.

"I'm going to bed," Martin said. He gently, so gently, took his hand back. Martin shifted forward, hands bracing his weight on the couch. He was more alert, more annoyed. He stood, towering over Jon. "We can argue all this out when I wake up."

"There's nothing to argue," Jon said. "Maybe we can start over in Scotland? Even if you don't love me any more, you have to know we'd be safer together."

"Even if I what?" Martin said, staring down at Jon.

"Past tense," Jon choked out. "It's just that when I first found you, you said 'I really loved you, you know' and..."

"Your impression of me is terrible," Martin said.

Jon smiled. He wouldn't be distracted so easily. "I know that I've never deserved your love.I treated you terribly, even before I became whatever I am now. I never appreciated you enough. I know...I thought I knew... I..."

Martin's eyes were focused on Jon's lips. "Jon, what are you saying?"

"Another chance," Jon said. "Please." He stood, still having to look up at Martin but at least he could be closer to him. "I don't want to say I've earned it, of course I haven't, of course..."

He was trying to let Jon down easy, trying to find way to get away. Jon was being spooky and creepy. Jon wasn't even trying to Know anything. He was just... He didn't Know. He could look. He could peek into Martin's mind, see if the answer was there. The way to make Martin love him again.

If he somehow did still love Jon, if there was any chance of Martin loving him again, then that kind of violation and manipulation could completely destroy it. He couldn't risk that. Martin was too important to throw away like that.

"Jon," Martin was saying. "Jon, come back. _Jon_."

Jon had been ignoring Martin in favor of mooning over him. "I was trying to...not to..."

"I love you," Martin said. "Stay with me." Martin gently put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "It's not like it really was past tense."

"What?" Jon said. He was focused more on the contact then the words. Body language seemed more reliable, less ephemeral than words.

"I thought I wasn't going to exist any more. I thought I was already gone.I loved you while I was human. I'm still human, so I still love you." Martin dropped his hand. "I love you. I need sleep." Both were delivered so flatly, such unmistakable truths.

Jon didn't know what to say, what to do, where to put his hands and what to look at. He tried to say it back. Four words would be more than enough: "I love you too." They wouldn't come out, wouldn't pass his lips. Jon's hands found the strength to move, the lightness to rise. He placed one hand on either side of Martin's face. "You saw me, back there. Saw what I am."

Martin took his hands and moved them away. Too much contact after disengaging from the Lonely. "You need sleep too," Martin said. He wasn't completing the right thought."Come to bed with me."

Jon froze. "What?"

Martin swallowed, seemingly choking down something. "Just to sleep. If... I won't fade away. I want you to rest. I'll rest easier knowing that you're alright."

"Right, of course." It wasn't romantic, it was pragmatic.

They fell onto the bed fully dressed. Shoes kicked off, but nothing more.Martin shifted to throw the duvet over them. "Good enough," he muttered.

"Right.Should we set an alarm or...?"

"'Or' sounds good," Martin said, falling asleep already.

"I'm sure Basira will break the door down if we don't answer."

"There you go.Perfect solution." Martin moved closer, kissed Jon's cheek. "Good night, love."

Jon froze. Martin was still so close, so much warmer than he'd been. He brushed his lips again Martin's. "I love you," he said, the words finally coming.

Martin's eyes opened. "I could've sworn you just said..."

Jon kissed the underside of Martin's jaw, it being easy to move towards. He was more tired than he'd thought."I do love you," Jon tried. "I have loved you. Since before...all of this."

Martin brought one hand heavily towards Jon's head, briefly stroking his hair. "Sleep now, talk later."


End file.
